The True Story of Avery and Dylan
by averygirl
Summary: How Avery and Dylan's past shapes their future... A "Davery" story.
1. Chapter 1

**The True Story of Avery and Dylan**

_**A story about Avery and Dylan; as the title implies. This is my idea of their back-story which has been touched on, on screen, and how it affects their future! Happy reading.**_

**Chapter One**

"The contractors will be here at nine to scope out the place," Joe said as he scooped up his briefcase and suit jacket and headed for their bedroom door.

Avery Bailey Clark had just emerged from the bathroom, towel drying her long hair when her husband had made that announcement, or more like dropped the bomb on her. "Wait, Joe, I have to be to work at nine. You know that. I have a briefing before I am due in court at eleven."

Joe adjusted his jacket. "It was your idea, dear. You thought that we needed to redo the second floor."

"That may be true but –"

"No buts, Avery. This was your idea and I am shelling out most of the funds for it so –"

"So you're going to be a jackass about it," Avery couldn't help but snap. She sighed, letting out a breath it felt like she had been holding all morning since she woke up yet again to find Joe's side of the bed already made, his pillow fluffed and barely touched. "Look, I can push back the briefing about forty minutes but that's it. So these guys better be on time."

She crossed her arms and Joe nodded. "Thatta girl," he said and then was gone. Giving her no kiss. As always.

XoXoXo

Avery had just finished getting dressed and pulling her shock of blonde hair back into a tight chignon when the doorbell rang. She had put in a call to the office and though the senior partner, William, wasn't thrilled that she was running behind, he had accepted it because he knew this was not the "norm" for her. She was nothing if not prompt and meticulous. So today he said he could make an exception for her tardiness.

She checked the clock as she left her room. 8:50 a.m. Were these guys actually on time? She wondered as she hurried down the staircase in her Louboutin heels and black pinstriped suit. That was a shocker. In her experience, handymen, plumbers, etcetera, etcetera, were never on time. This was kind of impressive. She wanted to tell Joe about it but of course, as always, he wasn't there.

She walked through the living room and taking a deep breath, smoothed down her pressed outfit and pulled open the door. Two men stood on the porch. A big, burly one with a huge jaw line like a bulldog's. For whatever reason, her eyes were drawn to the slighter one though. He was in his thirties with a muscular but lanky build. He was tall and lean. He also had the bluest eyes she had ever seen. For a moment she couldn't remember what she was supposed to say. Fortunately, the big and burly one spoke first.

"Mrs. Clark?"

"Yes? I mean, yes that's me," Avery said, tearing her gaze off of Blue Eyes, turning to look back at the man who was likely his boss.

"I'm Red Grisham," the burly one said, offering her his beefy hand. She shook it. "I am the owner and lead contractor of Grit Builders. This is Dylan, one of my employees," he said, waving over his shoulder in the general direction of Blue Eyes.

"Yes, hi," Avery said, managing to keep her eyes on Red. "Do you want to see the second floor that you'll be remodeling?"

"Dylan here will go up with you and start measuring while I get all the documents ready."

Avery nodded. "Alright, sounds fair," she said. As Dylan moved her way, she felt warmth spread across her cheeks. She didn't know what was happening here but she didn't like it. Or maybe she did and that was the problem.

She reined it in somehow though and led the way up the staircase. She didn't like the silence that lingered between them so she asked, "How long have you been working with Blue – I mean, Red?"

She could hear the smile in his voice even as he was behind her and she couldn't see it. "About two weeks," Dylan answered. "But I promise I am good at what I do."

"Oh I bet," Avery said and felt warmth on her face again and was glad he was behind her. They reached the landing of the second floor and she whirled around. She did it so quickly that she bumped her left arm against his stomach. His abs were rock-hard and she sighed, feeling girlish and stupid.

"Sorry. I am so clumsy," she said as she quickly retracted her arm and folded it, along with the right one, across her small chest.

"No problem, Mrs. Clark."

"Uh, it's Avery. That's what my friends call me."

"Are we friends?" He asked with an easy smile.

"We could be," Avery blurted out. She sighed. Could she stick her foot any further into her mouth? "I mean – Never mind, anyway, here's the second floor." She swept her arms around to encompass the impressively-sized wing of the house.

Dylan popped his head into a few rooms and walked back over to her, his gait steady and sure. "It's amazing the way it is," he said. "Why do you want to remodel it, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I don't mind… And it's about change, I guess. We all need a change from time to time, right?"

He nodded and smiled faintly, knowingly. "Yeah, I think we do."


	2. Chapter 2

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**Chapter Two**

Avery sighed loudly as she steered her Lexus down the winding street. She had had a horrific day from start to finish. First, Joe had left this morning before she had even awoken. Then she had gotten a flat tire on the way to work and had had to wait nearly an hour for a tow truck. Her personal assistant Rose had quit, citing Avery as being too "Type A" as her reason for leaving without notice. The worst part was that she had been blocked on an important motion in court - something that hadn't happened since she had first started practicing five years ago - and it now looked like her client Blake Letourneau was going to prison for life. He had yelled at her for fumbling his "fucking case" and had threatened to fire her. At this point, she didn't think that she would even care if she was booted off of the case. All she cared about was sinking into a hot bath and forgetting the whole day. Maybe the whole of the past ten years too...

She was soon pulling up in front of 965 Avocado Lane, her house. Not her home, just her house. A place to go after work and put her feet up. A place to shower and sleep. And that was about it. She didn't know why she had thought remodeling the upstairs floor would change things. Nothing ever changed where she and Joe were concerned. The white frame estate would keep on being just a house whether the wallpaper was yellow or blue and whether the bathtub had claw feet or not.

She pulled her Lexus into the driveway, noting that as usual, Joe's car wasn't there. If she didn't know that he was so obsessed with his job, she would have been inclined to believe that he was having an affair. But if she knew anything about him, it was that nothing could separate him from his precious business.

She climbed out of the car, grabbing her briefcase and purse and then shutting the door. As she approached the porch she heard the distinctive sound of nails pounding into wood. She looked back at the street. Sure enough a truck with the words "Grit Builders" emblazoned on the side, was sitting at the curb. Funny how she hadn't even noticed it there. Maybe because she was so used to seeing it by now. In the past week since the construction had begun, it had been parked there every night and the workman with the bluer-than-blue eyes could always be found hammering away at something. He was committed, that much was clear. While the other men clocked out right at the scheduled time, he was still there, sometimes well into the night. Something about his presence was as comforting as it was discombobulating.

She climbed the steps and found the door unlocked. She set down her briefcase and purse in the hallway and slipped off her heels. She then made her way to the kitchen and tried to decide what to fix for dinner. She wasn't really in the mood to eat but it was necessary since she hadn't had anything since breakfast. Plus, she needed something to occupy her time until she could be alone and take that bath she was craving.

She rolled up the sleeves of her mauve button-down blouse, pulled her hair back into a ponytail and washed her hands. As she did so, she looked at her wedding band and wondered what it would feel like to take it off, just for a moment. Would it give her a sense of freedom? Or would it just make her feel guilty because deep down she felt that she wasn't doing enough to save her marriage?

Without giving it another thought, she held out her moist hand and slipped the ring off. She held it up and looked at the inscription. It read _"Forever"._ Simply, "Forever". It had seemed like the perfect sentiment at the time that Joe had presented it to her. Now it seemed like it meant an eternity, a forever, of loneliness. She sighed and started to slip it back onto but finger but her hand shook and coupled with the slipperiness of her fingers, she ended up dropping the ring. She cried out in surprise as it went sailing right down the drain.

"Oh fuck!" She cursed as she tried peering into the drain but only saw darkness. She ran for the drawer where she kept the salad tongs and yanked it open so quickly that the whole drawer came tumbling out, along with its contents too. She jumped back right in time to avoid having a body part severed by the butcher knife she kept in there. She cursed again and grabbed the tongs, running back to the sink.

She stuck the tongs into the garbage disposal and started rooting around. She couldn't feel or see anything though. She was about to give up completely when suddenly there were footsteps in the kitchen. She turned to see Dylan standing there, watching her with wide eyes. "What happened? I heard a commotion upstairs. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she lied and not very convincingly. "I just ... My wedding ring fell off, right into the garbage disposal. I can't retrieve it and -" She broke off. "It's hopeless."

Dylan shook his head. "No its not. I've got a snake in my truck that I can use. I'll be right back."

Avery nodded, calling "Thank you!" after him. She leaned against the counter for a moment but then started pacing. If Joe saw her without ring, he would be upset. _**If**__ he noticed,_ she thought darkly. And that was a big IF.

Dylan was returning in a minute and Avery stopped pacing and followed him over to the sink where he immediately went to work lowering the tool in. He rooted around with it and glanced at her as he did so. For some reason, the quiet intensity of his gaze made her blush. She tried playing it off by saying, "How dumb am I? To let my ring fall in there?"

"It's not dumb," Dylan said. "It could happen to anyone. I've dealt with this kind of thing more often than you might think."

Avery smiled a little. "So it's not a new phenomenon?"

"No, though in my experience rings themselves don't just fall off. They are removed."

Avery didn't know how to reply to that. The way he looked at her communicated that he didn't believe her story, and why should he really? Rings rarely did just fall off someone's hand. She had taken it off purposefully and they both knew it.

She blushed still more. "Would you believe I was washing it?" She said lamely.

"I can believe almost anything," Dylan said and then turned back to face the sink. He was soon withdrawing the ring with an _"a-ha!"_ He rinsed it off for her and handed it back to her. Their fingers brushed and they both quickly looked away.

She slid the ring back on and then started gathering up the items that had fallen to the floor. They would all need to be washed but she would do that later.

She had just picked up some forks when she noticed that Dylan was reaching for the spoons. "You don't have to do that," she said. He was crouched beside her and she could feel the heat of his body radiating right into hers.

"I don't mind."

"It's not in your job description. Neither is snaking my drain ... I mean, so to speak."

Dylan smirked. "I don't mind helping. Really."

"You're dedicated," Avery said as she tossed the stuff in the sink. "You really go above and beyond. The upstairs rooms will be done really soon at the rate you're going."

Dylan shrugged. "I am a perfectionist when it comes to my work. I want to be proud of what I do. I want people to be satisfied."

"Well I am thus far," she said. "The bathroom looks better than I imagined it already."

"I have a lot of help. Red and the guys ..."

"Well that may be true but you're the one I see sanding and finishing and hammering every time I come home. I wouldn't be surprised either if you were the one who did all of the beautiful stencils on the bathroom wall."

"Why do you think that?"

"Am I right?"

He nodded. She smiled. "I don't know... It just seems like you have an artistic soul. I don't have a creative bone in my body. I'm too analytical so I can appreciate people who are _artistes."_

"You sell yourself short. Besides, anyone can do stencils."

"I couldn't."

"I bet you twenty bucks that you could."

Avery shook her head. "You know an easy mark when you see one, huh?" They threw the last of the utensils into the sink and she rubbed her hands on a dishtowel. "But you know what; I think I'll take that bet sometime."

Dylan smiled. "How about now?"

Avery's eyes widened. "Oh I don't know... I have a lot of ... stuff... to do." Was she blushing again?

"Okay ..." He looked decidedly disappointed and she felt badly. Plus she realized she wanted to distract herself from her problems and this was the best way she could think of right now.

She offered him a smile. "You know what? All of that 'stuff' can wait."

"You don't have to try to appease me."

"I'm not. I want to do this," she said determinedly. "Just fair warning, I won't be any good at it."

"I doubt that. I just have a feeling that you are one of those people that can set their mind to anything and get it done."

"You have a lot of confidence in me. Now come on. You're about to earn the easiest twenty bucks you ever made."


End file.
